


Steal Your Fire Away - Part 1

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-26
Updated: 2002-02-26
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:05:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Steal Your Fire Away - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Steal Your Fire Away

## Steal Your Fire Away

#### by Claire Dobbin

Title: Steal Your Fire Away  
Author: Claire Dobbin  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website: http://www.slashcity.net/~claired/index.htm  
Date Archived: 02/26/02  
Category: AU (Alternate Universe)  
Pairing (Primary): Skinner/Krycek  
Pairing(s) (Secondary):   
Crossover Fandom (if any):   
Crossover Info (if any):   
Other Pairing Info:   
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers:   
Permission to Archive: Yes  
Series or Sequel/Prequel: sequel to Some Days Are Diamonds  
Notes: As always a thousand thanks to my wonderful betas - Bertina, Anika and Jessabelle.  
Warnings:   
Disclaimer: They turned up like refugees on my doorstep it was my humanitarian duty to give them shelter.  
Summary: 

* * *

'Steal Your Fire Away' 

Somewhere out on the prairie  
Lives the greatest cowboy there's ever been And when he lays his hands upon the ponies They shudder with an understanding skin And he says.  
'Ponies, now ponies don't you worry  
Have not come to steal your fire away  
I've come to fly with you  
Across the sunrise  
Discover what begins each shining day' 

* * *

Walter Skinner struggled through the front door of the White Oaks Facility, loaded down with a number of large bags and balancing a pile of foil food containers. Joe, the duty security guard, came out from behind the desk to assist him. 

"Looks like you could do with some help, Mr. Skinner," he remarked, taking the foil containers from Skinner's hands. 

"Thanks, Joe. I should have made two trips, I guess," Skinner said. 

He placed the bags on the desk and reached for his gun. Joe took it from him and Skinner signed the security book, beside the entry. As usual, the guard made only a cursory inspection of the items Skinner had carried in. Skinner had gotten to know the man over the two months he had been visiting Alex and appreciated the friendly, respectful way the man treated him. 

"Are we in Room 1 today?" Skinner asked. 

"Yes, Sir," Joe told him, "it's free, if you want to go on in. I'll take these to the staff kitchen." He pointed to the foil containers. 

"Thanks Joe, I'll come get them when we're ready." 

Joe nodded and Skinner moved down the familiar corridor towards the treatment room. He closed the door behind him, put the large bags down beside his chair and hung his jacket on the coat rack. A quick check of his watch told him he had a few minutes before Alex and Dr. Massie would arrive and he sat down for his first calm moment of the day. Since they'd returned from Florida, Fridays had become hectic for Skinner. They were also the best day of each week. 

On Friday he would finish work an hour early, go home to shower and change into something casual, then he'd pick up whatever food Alex was in the mood for before driving to White Oaks for their five thirty session, which was Dr. Massie's last appointment of the day. At the end of the first session the doctor suggested they remain in the treatment room to share the pasta salad Skinner had brought for Alex as a change to the institutional food he ate every day. The shared meal became a very important part of the weekly routine. When Dr. Massie left them at six thirty they had an hour together, with his permission, before security checked and locked the offices and treatment rooms on the ground floor and Alex was escorted back to his room. 

There could be no physical dimension to their time together, other than being close and quiet with each other; the security system ensured that. But it allowed them to decompress after being apart all week, each involved in their own busy schedules. They didn't even talk much. They kept that for the phone call Skinner made to Alex last thing each night. 

As with the visits, they had to be discrete on the phone. Dr. Massie had warned them that the facility's calls were randomly monitored. Since Skinner couldn't talk about what went on at the Hoover Building and Alex didn't want to talk about White Oaks, the conversations were awkward in the beginning. They had fallen back on discussing the news and the weather and sports for the first couple of calls. But gradually they began to talk about themselves and each other. 

At first it had surprised Skinner that the simple exchange of ideas and interests could be so intimate. Then, in a moment of insight, he realised that in some of his relationships he'd used sex as a means to avoid getting to know his partner. When you took away the heat and haze of the sex, you were left with the person. He'd always found being emotionally intimate with another person difficult. It consoled him in the long lonely nights to know that he and Alex were doing okay with emotional intimacy. He was even more consoled when he looked forward to the day when they'd have the intimacy and the sex. The thought of that sure helped with the long and lonely nights. 

And Alex was turning out to be a much more complex individual than he had anticipated. The Krycek he'd known was like a comic book character below whose ingratiating faade dwelt evil incarnate. The Alex he loved was well read and had a quirky view of the world that was never predictable. Skinner could tell that he was the first person who'd ever taken the time to listen to Alex's opinions on a whole slew of topics. Everything from how to cast a fly fishing line to the impact of global political strategies, and knowing it made him feel damned good. When Skinner thought about it, with the phone calls and the dinners and no sex, it felt like they were doing the old-fashioned courtship thing. 

He was feeling contented and at ease when Dr. Massie bustled into the room. 

"Evening, Walter," he said, using his first name as they'd agreed in the beginning. 

"Evening, Doctor," Skinner replied, needing the formality. 

The doctor leaned back in his armchair and fixed Skinner with a serious look. 

"I think it's time we call Alex's bluff on this 'Stepford' patient routine, don't you?" 

Skinner just looked at him, letting his confusion show. 

"Aahh.so you're under the impression it's going well?" the doctor questioned. 

"Isn't it?" Skinner asked. "I mean he's so calm and positive and . " 

"Eager to please?" the doctor finished for him. "That's the problem. He's telling us what he thinks we want to hear, and he's spent enough time in this facility to be able to write the script." 

"But," Skinner began, his happy Friday feeling punctured like a balloon on New Year's Eve. "He's trying so hard." 

"Walter, I can honestly say I've never seen a patient try so hard, and with such good intentions." He chuckled as he continued, "Every yoga class, every Tai chi class, every group therapy session, there's Alex in the front row. And if he isn't in a session, he has his nose in one of those 'self help' books shipped in by the case load from that sister of his in California." 

Skinner knew all about those since he'd carried them in. He had a new one in the bag beside him entitled 'Being Happy'. He had the distinct impression from the message pencilled into the flyleaf that Olga wasn't offering it as an option. 

"But all the effort and good intentions in the world are to no avail unless he begins tackling the issues he has to deal with," the doctor was saying. "He's not dealing with them, and Walter, you're aiding and abetting him." 

"You'll have to explain that, Doctor. I've done nothing but be supportive - " 

"Precisely," the doctor interrupted. "Being supportive is good; being realistic is better." 

"I have no illusions about - " 

The doctor interrupted him again, "Oh, Walter, come on, I've listened for eight weeks to all those rose tinted plans for the future. But let me ask you this - do you think Alex is ready to go out there and deal with whatever life throws at him?" 

"But I'll be there - " 

"You can't be with him 24/7, nor should you be. When I told you he needed a supervisor, I told you his mother could do it but that you'd be better. That's because I felt you'd be better at giving him the space he needs, within a defined structure." The doctor smiled at him before he said, "I think I underestimated just how protective your nature is regarding the people you love. Please don't be offended, but you're smothering him. You solve every problem for him, you deal with every difficulty. That's not good for Alex and while we're on the subject, it's not good for your relationship. He may have been glad of it in Florida. He's content with it now, but as he gains independence, it's going to begin to chafe. It's just not who Alex is." 

Skinner said nothing. He could recognise himself in the doctor's description. He'd always been the big brother who'd shepherded his siblings around. They still came to him with their problems. He'd had the same role in his platoon in the Corps. Sharon and he had struggled with his over-protectiveness. It was one of the issues that had finished them. The hurt and frustration of having let Mulder be taken still rippled through him. 

"Walter, that sounded harsher than I intended," the doctor said, his tone softening. "Such commitment is admirable, you just need to learn when to back off with him." 

Skinner nodded agreement. 

"The sexual relationship complicates matters. You are both still in that early obsessive phase which doesn't, thank God, last that long, but you're operating on a purely emotional level with him now and no matter what your head knows, your heart sees only the good in Alex. But Walter, Alex Krycek is a trained killer who has used his skills efficiently and without compunction. If I am going to recommend his release to the House Committee, I'm going to have to be convinced that by doing so, I will not be putting either society or Alex at risk. I don't convince easily." 

"You didn't see how he was in Florida." Skinner began lamely. 

"I would hardly call that an acid test," the doctor said. "What happens the first time he faces a situation in which he feels threatened, or someone he loves is threatened, or he's just plain pissed off?" 

The doctor's voice trailed off when he noticed how Skinner looked away from him at the words. 

"Alex reacted the same way when I talked to him about this. Something happened in Florida, didn't it? Something you didn't tell me about." 

The doctor stopped talking and waited for Skinner to speak. There were a few minutes of silence and then Skinner told him about the incident with Mulder and how it ended in the Sheriff's Office. He didn't tell him about his assault on Alex. It was just too painful to say out loud. 

The doctor listened neutrally to the account before saying, "At least it gives us a starting point, but I can tell you Walter that _I_ am pretty pissed off at not being told about this. I figured something significant must have happened to send you rushing back home, but I assumed it was anxiety over the developing relationship that brought you to my office that day. I'm disappointed in you. That was one hell of a risk you took, leaving him like that. If you are to continue to be his supervisor I will have to be sure you'll never do anything like that again." 

Skinner felt ashamed. He was also terrified that he'd destroyed the doctor's trust in him. 

"I give you my word, Doctor, it will never happen again," he said as sincerely as he knew how. 

The doctor let him stew for a long moment before he said, "I accept that. But let me warn you, I expect you to be completely honest with me, and I expect you to talk to me. What you're taking on is damned hard. Alex isn't the only one who needs support. That's what I'm here for." 

"Thank you, Doctor," Skinner told him. "You've been exceptionally kind to us both - " his voice trailed off, embarrassed. 

"Most of my time is spent trying to put together pieces that don't fit anymore, but occasionally I get the chance to make a difference. Alex is such a case. I think he can make it. I want to see him walk out of here." 

"I'll do whatever it takes," Skinner told him. 

"Okay," the doctor said, checking his watch as he buzzed through to ask the orderly to bring Alex to the treatment room, "then I suggest you buckle on your seatbelt because we're in for a bumpy ride." 

Skinner sat silently waiting for Alex to arrive. Only a few minutes passed before the door opened. Alex looked more anxious than usual when he came in. As always, Dr. Massie busied himself with paperwork while the two men greeted each other. Skinner stood up and returned Alex's hug, holding on tightly. 

"What's wrong?" Alex whispered to him. 

Skinner shook his head and pulled away. The two of them took their usual positions opposite each other. Skinner looked at Alex's trusting expression and felt a gnawing pain begin in his gut. 

"Sorry for the delay, Alex, Walter and I needed a few minutes," the doctor explained. 

"S'okay," the young man agreed, before asking, "Is there something wrong?" 

The doctor ignored the question and asked instead, "Alex, can you tell me what you were feeling when." he glanced at the notes he'd made ".this Fox Mulder attacked you in your mother's home." 

Alex turned back to Skinner, his brows knitted together, a flush creeping over his cheeks. 

"Walter told me about it when I asked him, as you should have done, Alex," the doctor admonished. 

Alex deliberately looked away from Skinner then and spoke to the doctor. "It wasn't that big a deal. He took me unawares. I forgot that because things are different for me now, doesn't mean people like Mulder see it that way." 

"Not that big a deal? I'd have to disagree, Alex. You were assaulted in front of your family in what is now your home. You then went out and assaulted two police officers." 

"They came after me," Alex defended. 

"Not in an aggressive way, Alex," Skinner said quietly. 

Alex looked at him, his expression lacking any warmth, and spoke in an equally cool tone. "You weren't there." 

Skinner didn't reply but tried to communicate with his body language that he was on Alex's side. 

"So you feel you were justified in acting as you did?" the doctor asked. 

Alex fidgeted uncomfortably. "No.I should have gone with them.I figured it was Walter's doing.but I wasn't ready to go home." he ran out of steam. 

"You say things are different for you now," the doctor was continuing, "but this incident sounds like 'unreconstructed Alex Krycek' to me." 

Alex glared at him. 

"Well fuck." he spat out and pointed in the direction of the lockdown wing ".then why don't you just lock me back in that hellhole and call it a day?" 

"Is that what you want?" the doctor asked, unruffled. 

Alex drew in three calming breaths. Skinner watched the younger man battle to control the emotions raging within him. He willed him his strength and support. 

One more deep inhalation and noisy exhalation and Alex looked at them both before saying quietly, 

"No, that's not what I want." 

"Good," said the doctor with conviction. 

Skinner loosened the grip he had on the chair arms, only then realising the tightness of his hold. 

"Alex, you've come a long way," the doctor was saying, "and I know it's been hard, but now you're in the home stretch." 

The younger man rubbed his hand wearily over his face and looked over at Massie. 

"This is going to be the toughest part though. During your time here we've stripped away the learned behaviours. Now we're down to the instinctual. You get a handle on those and you're home." 

He stood up and gathered his papers into the file. He took something from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Skinner. Turning to Alex he placed his hand reassuringly on the younger man's shoulder. 

"You're going to get there, Alex." 

He walked to the door and took hold of the handle. "That's enough for today," he said opening the door and stepping through, but he halted and turned back to look at the two silent men. 

"By the way, I'm resetting this to session one." And he was gone. 

Alex had the sense to wait until the doctor was well out of earshot before he stood up to kick the doctor's chair as hard as he could. 

"I fucking hate him," he said clinically to the closed door. 

Skinner found his legs and his voice and he walked over to Alex, pressing himself against his lover's back as his arms wrapped around the tense body. 

"I hope I'm not included in that," he whispered into a convenient ear. 

Alex relaxed and leaned back against him. 

"You I fucking love," he told Skinner. "Even if you have a big mouth." 

Skinner turned Alex round to face him and guided them to the part of the room he thought was most obscure to the security system. There he kissed Alex as passionately as he knew how and was repaid with the man's moaning, ravenous response. When it began to get out of control Skinner drew back and asked breathlessly, "What were you saying about my mouth?" 

Alex's green eyes cleared to focus on Skinner's swollen lips. He ran his thumb gently across them and Skinner opened his mouth to pull the thumb inside, where he sucked on it rhythmically. 

"This beautiful, sexy mouth?" Alex growled softly. "I'd say it's just about perfect." 

Skinner reluctantly released the thumb and took a minute to study the beautiful face, the smooth pale skin, the wide-set almond eyes, dancing with life, the too short upturned nose, the smiling kiss-reddened lips. Finding perfection in another form. 

He chuckled to himself, remembering Dr. Massie's words about the obsessive stage. 

"What?" Alex prompted. 

Skinner avoided the question by taking the laminated card the doctor had given him out of his pocket and holding it up so Alex could read what it said. 

Alex whooped in delight. 

"Yep," said Skinner, just as delighted, "a whole weekend pass. Want to revise your opinion of the good doctor?" 

"Mmmm,"Alex muttered noncommittally. 

Skinner was the one to end the embrace. 

"Considering this," he said tapping Alex on the forehead with the pass, "I don't think we want to step on any toes." 

They walked back to the centre of the room. 

"Ready for dinner?" Skinner asked. "I got the chilli, extra hot, just like you wanted." 

Alex tugged at the front of his jeans before sitting down. 

"Sure," he said, "it'll go with the mood." 

* * *

Skinner drove home from the facility with his mind buzzing. Many things clamoured for his attention but over-riding them all was the thought of spending next weekend alone with Alex. Strangely, they hadn't talked at all about how or where they'd spend it. He thought that Alex probably assumed they'd go to his apartment or maybe to a hotel or bed and breakfast nearer the facility. He knew it was a perfect example of what Dr. Massie had talked about earlier, namely Skinner being the decision-maker in the relationship. He knew he should have involved Alex in the decision, but somehow the moment he'd realised the doctor had given them a weekend pass he knew he wouldn't. Just this one last time he wanted to take the initiative. 

Knowing there was little chance he'd be able to sleep anytime soon, he went to the gym and began a workout. It was populated with people like himself who were spending a Friday night working out their problems and frustrations by working out their muscles. He soon settled into his routine, using it to process what had happened so he could sleep. He'd need all the rest he could get for the busy days ahead. 

By nine thirty the next morning, he'd already spoken with Dr. Massie to confirm that if the weekend went well it would become a regular arrangement and was on his way to view properties for rent in Virginia. He concentrated on two areas, Hampton and Fairfax. Both were situated equidistant between White Oaks and DC, and had an abundance of the type of property he was after, a simple two or three bedroom cottage on its own private lot. Beside him on the passenger seat were twenty or so flyers he'd printed off the net for properties that seemed to have potential and a list of names and addresses of local realtors. 

A long and gruelling seven hours later, when he was just about ready to give up for the day, he found it, the perfect place for them. He knew it was right the minute he laid eyes on it. It was just outside the town of Cedar Fork, only two miles off the main Richmond to DC highway, but had a completely rural setting. A long gravel driveway led to a grey stone cottage with a shingled roof. It was sheltered by a copse of mature beech trees and had extensive lawns on all four sides. The windows and door trims were painted white, the shutters a dark brown. A solid oaken door with frosted glass on either side opened into a spacious hall lined in oak panelling. Skinner didn't need to go any further to know that the house had a good 'feel' to it. There was a warmth that had been missing in many of the places he'd viewed that day. Getting that feeling was more important to Skinner than a leaky roof. A leak could be fixed. 

Walking through the rooms one by one, he wasn't disappointed. The living room was dominated by a large stone fireplace and had comfortable 'make yourself at home' furniture. Next to it was the kitchen, large and well equipped, and with a huge range that took up most of one wall. The bathroom was fitted with gleaming white porcelain and tiles. The master bedroom, with its ensuite bathroom, and two others ran along the back of the house. Finally, there was a utility room filled with raincoats and umbrellas and boots, as well as the washer/dryer. 

He'd spent the day trying to see properties through Alex's eyes. He knew the man well enough to know that he liked simple, clean lines and natural materials. This house had both, and there wasn't a frill or flourish in the entire place. The realtor told him it had been restored by a professor from George Washington University who used it in the long summer vacation to write up his research findings. That meant it was available on a three-month lease at a reasonable rent considering the area it was in. He signed for it immediately, pleased when the realtor said he'd forego the usual references, since Mr. Skinner was, after all, someone important in the FBI. Happy with the outcome, he drove home with plenty of time to spare before his call to Alex. 

The next five days were a blur of activity for Skinner. By Wednesday he admitted he was going to need to take some time off work if he was to achieve everything he'd planned so he had Marie re-schedule all his appointments for Thursday and Friday. She also made arrangements to have his mail and calls redirected to the new address. He left the Hoover Building around two and went straight to Crystal City to finish his packing. It was his last night in the apartment, something about which he felt no pain at all. It had proved remarkably easy to sell the property and he'd received a succession of offers that surpassed even the realtor's optimistic evaluation. 

Now that he had somewhere else to live he saw no reason to delay moving out and he arranged with a removal company to pack up and put all his furniture into storage. Since the Hampton cottage was fully furnished, he needed to bring only his clothes and a few items such as his computer and CD collection. By Thursday afternoon he had emptied and closed up the Crystal City apartment without a backward glance and was settling into his new, albeit, temporary home. He spent the rest of the day spring cleaning the cottage and turning it into a home. 

He slept late on Friday morning, in the expectation he wouldn't be getting much sleep Friday night. When he did get up he enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and drifted through the rooms of the cottage, moving things from place to place. Around two he drove into Cedar Fork and bought the things he needed for dinner, two prime steaks and Idaho baking potatoes. The local bakery yielded up freshly baked bread and a coconut cream cake, which he knew was something Alex liked. Arriving back at what was now 'home', he put the food away and lit a fire in the living room. When he had put fresh linens on the bed and moved things around for a second time he gave up and got ready to drive to White Oaks. 

By four forty-five he was sitting in the lobby of the facility trying to be unobtrusive behind a copy of 'Mental Health Monthly'. The main door opened and a group of people walked past him towards the admin area. He recognised Dr. Massie's voice and sank further into his seat. 

"Walter?" said the familiar voice. 

He looked over his magazine and smiled ruefully at the doctor who was checking his watch in a teasing way. 

"Okay Walter, you can take him," the doctor said quietly and laughed, "I know I haven't a snowball's chance in hell of getting anything done with the two of you today anyway. You can tell him it's his reward for a good week's work." 

The doctor went to the main desk and made a call. When he put the receiver down he nodded to Skinner and disappeared down the corridor following his colleagues. 

Skinner paced up and down for another five minutes before the security door to the first floor opened and Alex was handed over into his safe keeping. 

* * *

Skinner glanced over for the tenth time at the very subdued Alex who sat beside him. This time Alex returned his glance and smiled at him. 

"It's okay, Walter. I just had a tough week," Alex explained. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. "You have no idea how good it feels to be here with you." 

Skinner reached over to massage Alex's shoulder, then ran his hand along the shadowed jaw line. 

"I think I might have an inkling," he said, looking over just as Alex turned towards him. Reluctantly he broke the eye contact to look back at the road, but he kept his hand resting on Alex's shoulder. 

"This is our exit," he told the younger man when the sign for Cedar Fork loomed in front of them. 

"We aren't headed for the city?" Alex asked. 

"No, I thought we should have a fresh start," Skinner told him. "I hope that's okay?" 

"Fine by me," Alex said. "DC isn't exactly my favourite place. So where are we staying?" 

"Just a couple of miles, a cottage I've rented for the next few months," Skinner explained. "It's private.and quiet. Here's the turn." 

He drove into the narrow country road as dusk was beginning to take hold, the white roadside fencing gleaming in the car headlights. Another mile and the fencing gave way to the gravel sweep at the entrance to the cottage driveway. 

Skinner carefully steered the car along the uneven surface and brought it to a halt outside the solid stone building. 

"Here we are," Skinner said to Alex, as he reached into the back to retrieve the weekend bag from the back seat. 

Alex silently climbed out of the car and walked through the crunching gravel to the front door of the cottage, well lighted by the glow of the lamps Skinner had left burning in the hallway and living room. Skinner closed and locked the car before following Alex to the doorstep. He took the spare key from his pocket and handed it to Alex when he drew level. 

"Your key," he said, and waited for the other man to open the door. 

Alex used the key and went inside, his eyes darting around to take in his new surroundings. Skinner placed a hand on the small of his back and suggested, "Why don't you take a look around. I need to check on the fire." 

Alex nodded and disappeared towards the kitchen while Skinner went into the living room and began to build up the fire. The cottage's efficient heating system meant inside was comfortingly warm compared to the chill March evening, but the fire was the 'heart' of the house and Skinner had tended it lovingly since he'd arrived. Satisfied that the fresh logs were taking hold, he turned round to find Alex in the doorway watching him. 

"Well," Skinner asked, "what do you think?" 

"It's great," Alex said, coming into the room to stand before him. He still wore his jacket and Skinner caught hold of the lapels as he said, "I was kind of hoping you were going to stay." 

Alex shrugged his way out of the jacket and Skinner threw it over the back of the nearest armchair. Immediately he pulled Alex into a firm embrace, sensing the man needed his strength. 

"Dr. Massie told me you did good work this week." 

Alex's only response was to wrap his right arm just as firmly around Skinner. The older man found himself at a loss. This was not how he'd expected Alex to be and he had to clamp down on the disappointment he felt. 

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. 

A shake of the head was the reply so he just held on, content to wait until Alex was ready. It took several long minutes, but eventually the younger man loosened his grip and took a step back. 

"I really could use a shower," he said gathering a handful of his sweater and bringing it to his nose. "I smell of that place." 

Skinner buried his nose between Alex's neck and shoulder. "You smell of you," he said, lifting his head, "but go shower if you want. There's plenty of hot water, so indulge. You'll find fresh towels and toiletries in the cabinet in our bathroom. I'll start dinner." 

Alex feathered his lips across Skinner's. "Thanks, Walter," he said and left the room. 

Skinner turned back to the fire in the hope of finding some insight in its glowing, living patterns. The sessions he'd had with the doctor, both alone and with Alex, had been emotionally intense. But he knew there were nothing compared to those between Alex and the doctor in private. Dr. Massie had used the phrase 'stripping away' to describe the process they were undertaking. It didn't sound like a pleasant experience. 

He felt sympathetic about Alex's sensitivity to the smell of the place where he was confined. He hadn't noticed anything but a faintly institutional odour in White Oaks, but he understood the strong response a smell could evoke, either good or bad. It occurred to him that all the clothes that Alex had brought carried a similar `taint' so he detoured on his way to the kitchen to get some of his own clothes for Alex to wear. 

The connecting door between bedroom and bathroom was ajar and he could hear the pounding of the water in the shower. He'd just opened the drawer in the dresser when he heard it, the sobbing hitch of Alex trying to control his breathing. He quietly leaned into the doorway and saw Alex sitting on the closed toilet seat, his head bowed and his shoulders tightly bunched. He'd only gotten as far as removing his sweater and it lay at his feet, forgotten. 

Skinner pulled back into the bedroom, unsure of how to act. Alex had made it plain he wanted to be alone and Skinner now knew why. His easiest option would be to leave as quietly as he entered and give Alex his wish. But he stayed where he was. The easy option was rarely the right one. What if, despite what the doctor had said, Alex had been given too much space all his life? What if, just this once, Alex needed to hold on to someone stronger? 

A line from a song flitted through Skinner's mind.'no room on the lifeboat, you can hold onto me'. 

'Everyone's entitled to at least one lifeboat,' Skinner thought reasonably and steeled himself to flaunt every deeply ingrained 'guy' taboo in the book. 

He walked back into the bathroom, turned off the shower and ignoring Alex's surprised look and reddened eyes, pulled him up into a ferocious hug. The man's resistance lasted about ten seconds before he clung on for dear life. 

"Let it go, Alex," Skinner said, suddenly fearless, and Alex took him at his word. 

* * *

Alex made up for a lot of lost emotion in the next hour or so. It was something he needed to do, that much was clear to Skinner. The final defensive position in Alex's psyche had been breached by whatever passed between him and Dr. Massie in their last session. The path was opened for Alex to grieve. What he grieved for Skinner could only surmise. His lost life, the choices he'd made, the things he'd done? 

Maybe all of the above, maybe something he couldn't even imagine. 

When the first crushing wave of it began to ebb away, Skinner lifted Alex's head from his shoulder and looked into the crumpled face. There were no words for what he needed to say so he let his hands talk for him as he swept the dark hair back from the sweaty forehead and began to undress the exhausted man. The shirt joined the sweater on the floor and Skinner, with great gentleness, removed the prosthesis. A fumble with tight fitting jeans and forgotten shoes and Alex was left only in his boxers. Skinner stepped away to restart the shower and strip off his own clothes, then he slipped off the final piece of underwear and guided Alex's weary body under the powerful spray of water. 

Joining him in the water, he leaned the younger man's back against his chest and began to shampoo his hair. He lingered over the task, massaging as he washed, rinsing the soap away meticulously before repeating the process. Finishing with the hair, he took a new bar of soap and washcloth and began to lather and cleanse Alex's skin to wash away any trace of White Oaks. Along with it he willed away the hurt his lover was feeling, hoping that Alex recognised in this act his acceptance of him as he was, body and soul. And to reinforce the message he did something he'd never done before, not even during lovemaking - he took hold of the disfigured arm and touched it everywhere, with all the sensitivity he could muster. 

Then he turned Alex towards him so that the spray was at his back and kneeling before him, washed the long legs and feet as the comforting water swirled around them both. Needing only to tend to the most intimate part of his lover, he re-soaped the washcloth and began to wash his genitals with a knowing touch. When he reached forward to soap behind the balls, Alex's hand splayed out against the tile to support himself as the cloth contacted his anus. Skinner looked up at him to find his eyes tightly shut. Not wanting to start something neither of them needed right then, Skinner quickly washed the cock, watching it become half hard under the stimulation. But it went no further and Alex titled his head back so the water sluiced down his face and the front of his body, enabling Skinner to quickly rinse away the remaining soap. 

Skinner stood and shut off the flow of water. Stepping out of the shower he swiped at his own body a few times with a towel to take off the worst of the water, wrapping the towel round his waist. Alex was out of the shower already and had a towel in his hand, but Skinner took it from him and dried him as methodically as he had washed him. When he was satisfied he threw the towels in the hamper and pulled Alex with him into the bedroom. 

He settled them both in the big bed and reached out to switch off the bedside lamp, drawing Alex to him. The man shuddered as Skinner's big hands moved across his chest and abdomen. Skinner could sense that Alex had indeed been 'stripped down' to the core of his being and it had left him raw. With his body and stroking hands he tried to soothe the vulnerable man in his arms, replacing the layers of hurt and suspicion with love. 

Alex released a long sighing breath and leaned back into him. It wasn't the way Skinner had anticipated spending his first night together with Alex after months of enforced separation, but with his lover held close at eight forty-five on a Friday evening he found himself glad to drift off into an exhausted sleep. 

* * *

A tantalizing smell coaxed Skinner back to consciousness. Reaching out across the bed he found it empty. The light from the bathroom, though shaded by the half closed door, was sufficient to show him that Alex was not in the room and he looked at he clock groggily to find it was just after four am. Remembering he'd left his glasses in the bathroom, he stretched and pulled on a pair of sweats before going to fetch them. Then he followed his growling stomach to the kitchen where he found Alex, also dressed in a pair of his sweats, on the verge of overcooking the steaks. 

Alex gave him a quick, uneasy look which Skinner ignored as he whipped the pan out from under the grill. 

"There oughta be a law - " he mused aloud as he looked at the overdone prime cut of meat. 

Alex snorted. "Anything that's not 'tartare' is cooked too much for you, Walter," he responded. 

Skinner thumped the pan on the counter, saying, "We are looking at incineration here, Alex." 

Alex snorted again and forked the steaks onto plates already filled with scrambled eggs. 

"Let's go back to bed," he suggested. "That's where I was bringing these before the critic arrived." 

"Not a bad idea," Skinner agreed, "considering it's four in the morning." 

"Tell that to my stomach," Alex said, already on his way out of the kitchen, plate in hand. 

Skinner silently agreed, following with a tray holding his plate, two mugs of coffee and toasted chunks of bread. 

They settled themselves in the bed to enjoy the food. Skinner found it hard not to interfere as Alex laboriously cut up the meat single-handed with the sharpest knife from the kitchen, but they both managed and finished their meal. 

"I have to admit that was damned good, Alex," Skinner said, putting the tray on the floor beside the bed. 

"Thanks Walter, for last night. Massie didn't pull any punches this week," Alex said, leaning into his side. "And thanks for bringing me here. It's like a real home. Mom's was great, but this feels like it's mine - ours - even if it is only rented. It kind of overwhelmed me - " 

It all came out in a tumble of words and Skinner gratefully drank in every one of them. 

"That's good to hear," he said. Wrapping Alex up in his arms he asked, "So you really like it, then?" 

"Yeah, I can't wait to see outside. How much land is there?" 

"Eight acres," Skinner told him. "The land behind the house fronts onto a lake. Locals say there's decent fishing in it." 

"Maybe next weekend." Alex murmured, leaning over to nuzzle at Walter's lips. He pulled back abruptly, running his hand over Walter's jaw, then his own. 

"Uh, got to do something about this," he stated, pulling Skinner with him from the bed. 

They went into the bathroom together and Skinner allowed Alex to seat him on the closed toilet lid and take off his glasses to place them on the shelf above the basin. He watched the younger man fill the basin with warm water and swish a washcloth through it for a few moments. Fascinated, he watched Alex manage to squeeze out most of the water from the washcloth with one hand. It was carefully wiped over his face, then dunked into the water again. When he took it from the water a second time he handed it to Skinner who used it to warm his skin and open his pores, ready for the shave. 

Alex hunted through his weekend bag for his shaving kit. Opening it, he took out the heavy Merkur chrome razor and a fresh blade. He fitted it and placed the razor on the basin's edge. A tube of shaving gel rested on the shelf and Alex squeezed some out onto the porcelain beside the razor. Skinner threw the washcloth back into the water and leaned back when Alex came to stand in front of him. Dipping his fingers into the gel, Alex worked it into a lather on his lover's skin. Turning, he picked up the razor and began to shave in smooth strokes. 

Skinner held very still to help Alex with the awkward task. He knew from the first sweep that the razor was incredibly sharp, an attribute essential for anyone shaving single-handed. Each time Alex rinsed the blade in the water Skinner would move his head to a different angle at Alex's prompt, ready for the next stroke. He held his skin as taut as he could, but Alex didn't seem to have any difficulty. He did this every day. A final run of the razor up under his chin and it was done. Alex wiped over the shaved area with the damp warm washcloth and patted it dry with the towel. He caressed Skinner's cheek with the palm of his hand and murmured his approval at the closeness of the shave. 

From the kit he produced a bottle and held it up for Skinner's approval. Reading the label, which proudly announced 'Colonel Ichabod Conk's Shaving Balm' in Victorian typeface, Skinner smiled and nodded yes. Alex did that funny move with his hand to open the bottle while holding onto it and the cap. A flick of his wrist and he was putting down the bottle on the shelf, the right amount of oil in his palm. The moment the liquid touched his skin Skinner recognised its scent. It was the one Alex habitually used, just more intense. He liked it. It didn't have the bite of his own aftershave and there was the added pleasure of having it massaged into his skin by the sensual hand of his lover. 

The whole experience was intensely arousing. The presence of Alex in his personal space, the press of their legs together, the concentration in Alex's green eyes as he worked. Above all, the clearly defined arousal in Alex's sweatpants only inches from his face. Skinner had kept his hands to himself with difficulty, not wanting to be cut by the lethal razor due to any inauspicious move on his part, but when Alex gave his cheek a final pat and reached out to wipe his hand on the towel, he curled his hand around the enticing bulge and rubbed gently. 

"Oh, Walter." Alex ground out, grasping tightly onto Skinner's shoulder for support. 

Skinner removed his groping hand and stood up, pushing Alex in front of the basin as he did so. He reached over and emptied the basin, quickly wiping it and refilling it with water for Alex's shave. His arousal reined in, the younger man began to lather his face and Skinner positioned himself against Alex's left side, where he could maintain contact but wouldn't impede the man's actions. While Alex shaved, Skinner gently humped against his hip, greedily watching every move of his lover's in the mirror. 

"Okay Walter, I get the message, I'm going as fast as I can. Believe me, you'll thank me for this when I'm up close and personal with your groin." 

Skinner groaned aloud and Alex's reflection smiled broadly at him, before he resumed shaving as efficiently and quickly as he knew how. When Alex picked up the towel to wipe away the faint traces of soap left over from the shave, Skinner slipped his hand inside the sweat pants and began teasing the other man's anus with a blunt finger. Alex went completely still for a while then opened the cabinet drawer and took out a bottle of lube, which he placed in Skinner's left hand. Pushing his pants down to his ankles, he kicked them away and braced himself against the sink. 

Skinner ran his hand over the beautiful ass and remembered to breathe. He opened the bottle and slicked up his fingers. Gently sliding in the first one he looked up to watch its effect on his lover. It made a beautiful picture. Alex, in complete abandon, his eyes tightly closed, his lower lip trapped between his teeth, swayed fractionally to the rhythm of Skinner's manipulations. The one size too big T shirt thankfully didn't succeed in covering the second most beautiful part of the man and Skinner's peripheral vision picked up the sight of the darkly shaded cock riding high above its thatch of dark curls. 

Alex began making a soft keening sound, just above a hum, that sent a shiver of renewed arousal along Skinner's spine. In response he slipped in another finger and began stroking against Alex's prostate. The bucking hips and frenzied expression on Alex's face told him there was no way the younger man could hold back his orgasm, so he fisted the cock and watched the final working out of this act of love. Alex roared out his completion and shot all over the sink and mirror, the sweet vibrations of it pulsing through him as Skinner rolled his balls firmly with the palm of his hand in exactly the right way. 

Alex sagged then, only to be held securely against the older man's chest. Skinner impatiently pulled his sweat pants down and out of the way, hissing at the first contact of skin on skin. His cock, finding its own way into Alex's crack, demanded its due, but Skinner summoned up every ounce of restraint and waited until Alex looked up and nodded permission. A swift entry and three or four frantic strokes was all the stimulation it took to bring Skinner to fulfilment. He rested against Alex, soaking in his warmth and scent until he was able to stand on his own two feet again. Slipping out of the tight channel he smiled at Alex in the mirror, enjoying the completely debauched sight. 

"Next time we do this in the bed," he warned. 

Alex grinned back. "In the bed.on the table.in the shower.in front of the fire." 

"Okay, okay," Skinner interrupted, " I get the idea, the field of play is wide and varied." 

Alex turned towards him and wrapped his arm around his neck. "And you, Walter, are fair game." 

Skinner laughed out loud, looking forward to being on the receiving end of that particular threat. 

They returned to bed and made love again, languidly this time, dispelling the weeks of no physical contact as they became reacquainted with each other's bodies. 

* * *

Afterwards Alex decided he couldn't wait any longer to see outside and they took a quick shower together. Coming back into the bedroom Skinner watched Alex dress. He didn't put on his prosthesis. Instead he asked Skinner to pin up the sleeve of the sweatshirt. 

They made it outside in time for that brief moment in each day when the world is new again and the air dances with energy and smells sweet like the earth. The glow of dawn in the east was not yet strong enough to banish the indigo of the western sky, but it had the birds up and about their business, their song resounding across the fields. 

Alex slid his arm around Skinner's waist and smiled when the gesture was returned. They walked down the path, through the yard gate into the woodland behind the house. A late frost laced everything in white and their breath huffed out in clouds before them. 

It was all as new to Skinner as it was to Alex but he enjoyed the younger man's excitement in each discovery more than his own. Sharing a moment like this with another person was always better, he'd learned that long ago, but sharing it with someone who was learning that lesson for the first time was something pretty special. He opened himself to the sights and sounds and sensations, wanting to hold it crystallised in his memory. 

Then suddenly they topped a little mossy rise in the land and before them lay the wide expanse of the promised lake, a mist floating over its glassy surface in thick bands. Through it swifts darted and swooped, their acrobatics breathtaking. Alex turned back to look at Skinner, his eyes shining, and Skinner knew it was high time to say what he needed to say. 

"Alex, I want you to know something," he began. "Being here with you. being anywhere with you is.well, it just feels so right. Before, I was so damned miserable. You make me feel like a person again, you make getting out of bed in the morning worthwhile. The past doesn't hurt the way it did anymore and I want to make plans for the future. Thank you for making that happen." 

Alex looked at him like he was the Holy Grail and then held him tight. "It's gonna happen for us, isn't it?" he asked. 

"If I have any say in it," Skinner said, returning the embrace. "No matter what happens or what other people say, Alex, we've got to hold onto this." 

He felt Alex's nodded agreement against his cheek and they stood like that until it was fully light and the day proper had begun. Then they walked down to the lake edge and followed its contour round to where the ranch fencing signalled the end of their property. There they turned back towards the house, walking hand in hand through the dampening grass. 

The thud of hooves and a whinny drew their attention back to the fence and the prancing chestnut thoroughbred eyeing them with suspicion. Alex immediately went to lean on the fence, making a soft clicking sound with his tongue. Skinner watched as the skittish animal settled and sidled up to Alex in a hopeful manner. The big nose nuzzled at the pocket of Alex's jacket and the man laughed softly, carefully making no sound or movement that might startle the horse. 

"Don't have anything for you, Trigger," he said regretfully, "but I'll bring you something later." 

He rubbed at the soft muzzle and breathed on it forcefully, laughing when the horse copied the gesture. 

"Good boy," he said, stroking the powerful neck as he looked up into the big, brown eyes. 

Skinner looked at him questioningly when he turned away from the animal and caught hold of his hand again. 

"You know horses?" Skinner asked, intrigued. 

"Not really," Alex answered. "When I was working for the Brit I would stay at his place in Newport. He kept horses. I'd go down to the stables early in the morning. The 'help' being with the horses wasn't really encouraged." 

"Oh," Skinner said, sorry to have dredged up an unpleasant memory. "How about a drive round the neighbourhood, a little shopping, lunch, then back to bed?" 

"Sounds about perfect," Alex said. "Better remember to pick up some apples and carrots." 

"Sure thing," Skinner agreed, turning their steps towards the house. 

* * *

Cliche or not the rest of the weekend flew by and at eight o'clock on Sunday evening Skinner reluctantly walked with Alex into the foyer at White Oaks. He handed over the latest care packages from Florida and California to the security officer and turned to Alex. 

"I'll call you later," he said quietly, hating to say goodbye, especially in front of an audience. 

Alex looked at him, then at the guard who appeared completely disinterested in both of them. 

"Walter," Alex said just as quietly, his hand tugging on Skinner's jacket, "next Friday, why don't you come straight from work. You can change later." His expression was openly lascivious. 

Skinner smirked at him, the request opening up a whole chapter of 'Alex fantasies' for his contemplation. 

"Good idea, my schedule is pretty tight on Fridays," Skinner replied. He squeezed Alex's shoulder and walked to the door. 

"See you next week, Assistant Director," Alex called after him, laughter in his voice. 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Claire Dobbin 


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